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“Quinn Sullivan will be speaking first,” said Landry. “Giving projected community impact and a detailed plan for what exactly is being asked here.”
“Quinn. Come on up.”
It was the ferret one. With her big glasses and her braids.
She walked up to the front of the room, and looked out at all the people sitting in the folding chairs.
Levi crossed his arms over his chest and glared at her. “Hello,” she said. “I’m very glad that you could all make it tonight, because as you know, being a part of the community is something that’s very important to those of us at Four Corners. I consider it a keystone of my values as a Sullivan, to care deeply about this town. Four Corners has been here since before Pyrite Falls was ever an incorporated community. And as it has built, and grown, my innate feeling of responsibility for it has only increased. What we are asking is that at the fork in the highway, we build a new bit of road access to Four Corners. There would be a bit of new pavement involved, and a change to the intersection there. Everything else would be done on our property. That road would take people on a direct route to Sullivan’s Point, and to the new farm store that we plan to open. At the store we will be selling the produce that we grow at Sullivan’s Point, some of the beef produced by the Garretts and the Kings. There will also be baked goods provided by myself and my sisters, and we will have a section for other local produce and products. We would love the idea of carrying art created by some local people, and would love to supplement our food supply, and maybe even premade meals, with things provided by you. What we hope is that this will be a financially valuable piece to the community.”
She smiled, looking as if she was very pleased with herself, and the mic drop that she had just done. “I have run the numbers exhaustively, taking all of my education that I’ve acquired in agribusiness and applying it to this. I simply do not see how it can fail.”
Everyone clapped, though he could see that people were exchanging dubious glances on the non?Four Corners side. They were just too polite to full-on freeze her out.
Levi, on the other hand, was not hindered by politeness of any kind.
“Thank you, Quinn,” said Landry. “Next we’ll hear from Levi Granger, who is speaking on behalf of the Huckleberry County Ranching Association. Go right ahead, Levi.”
Levi stood and made his way slowly up to the front. He did not have a notebook. He didn’t need one.
He looked out at the crowd for a moment, at each and every one.
Levi didn’t have stage fright. He didn’t get nervous speaking in front of people.
Because he didn’t care what they thought about him. He’d been through hell and back when it came to public opinion, and many other things, and he had emerged out the other side a man who simply didn’t give a shit what anyone thought.
All that mattered was integrity. The preservation of the land, and of his ranch.
And that was what bolstered him now.
“But it can fail,” he said. “Maybe not for the people of Four Corners, but for the people of Pyrite Falls. Already, we are held hostage by the size of this ranching facility. John, what’s going to happen to your store, when they build up their little hipster paradise that they’ve pitched? What’s going to happen to Becky’s Diner when Four Corners is producing all of this food?” That produced a ripple of discontent in the crowd.
“They’re already their own little town right in the middle of us,” he continued. “We already know how hard it is to compete when it comes to producing beef. We don’t have a big pool of money and hundreds of employees helping us out. We don’t have endless acres of land. They’ve claimed most of it. And while the rest of us have to endure the hardships of waxing and waning prices, accessibility and products, they’re always able to cover the issues that each other has. If beef is lagging, the McClouds’ equestrian money covers it, and on it goes. We’re on our own. They look out for each other. They don’t look out for us. A road that bypasses the main street of town to allow people to directly access the store that competes with many existing businesses is not in our best interest. It is not now, and it never will be. And no amount of allowing people to use their shelves to sell a jar of local honey, or featuring a clay pot that they tossed in the corner of their store,” he said, directing this part right at Quinn Sullivan’s overlarge glasses, “is going to compensate for lost income.”
“That’s not fair,” said Quinn, standing up and pushing her glasses up her nose. “We do care about the town. I said that. It was in my speech.”
“Yeah, politicians say a lot of things, too. That doesn’t mean it isn’t horseshit. And it doesn’t mean that what you said is true, either. And I’m gonna call it out. That’s just you trying to make it sound as if you’ve given half a thought to what might affect the people around you. But you haven’t gone deep enough. What about John’s?” He pointed to the store owner sitting there in the third row.
The store stocked basic food staples, fishing and hunting supplies, gardening equipment and other miscellany. It was the only one-stop shop for miles, and if the farm store was aiming to stock food, it wouldn’t be that anymore.
He looked around. “Yeah,” he said. “What about me? You used to sell pies in my store, and some of your produce. The farmers market out front brought business to me, and what’s going to happen when I don’t have that anymore?”
“John,” said Quinn, looking over at him. “We do care about that. And we’re not going to carry things like prepackaged products and processed foods...”
“All right, so you’re just happy to have my store be the low-rent store. Need a Pop-Tart, go to John’s. Need a fresh meal, head to Four Corners.”
That sent murmurs out through the crowd.
“No. But when it comes to your store, we do provide the produce,” said Quinn. “I fail to see how we are required to sell them in a particular venue that benefits somebody else. It isn’t as if we’re taking a product we didn’t make and selling it—”
“But be honest,” said Levi. “Who is helping finance your growing operation? Because I doubt it’s as lucrative as the Kings. Or the Garretts, for that matter. Hell, I bet even the McClouds’ horses pull in more money.”
It was Gus McCloud who stood up then. “And our operation brings new people into the town all the time. We create tourism revenue that would otherwise not exist. Framing our ranch as a drain on the community is a pretty weak-ass narrative.”
“Fair point,” said Levi. “I do fancy myself a fair man, by the way, so it matters to me that we approach this in a fair way. But the decision of the Huckleberry County Ranching Association is to voice our opposition against new road access to Four Corners. It is our position that bypassing the town will put an undue burden on the businesses here, and give an unfair advantage to the Sullivan family, and to the greater Four Corners collective. We will be encouraging the county to deny the permits, and to reject the change. If the county should like to go ahead with it, we will continue opposition in other ways.”
“Maybe you don’t understand,” said Quinn, facing him full-on with the full force of that ferret energy, and he swore if she had a scruff it would’ve been standing on end. “This is for the benefit of the community. People know that they can come here for this produce. It will be a destination store.”
“A destination which allows people to bypass all of Pyrite Falls. Why would we agree to that?”
